Hair Fixation
by foscari
Summary: Michael has a fascination with Alto's hair. One shot. Implied BL.


**Title:** Hair Fixation

**Rating:** PG

**Warnings:** Unbeta-ed, PWP, shounen-ai

**Genre:** General

**Word Count:** 791

**Main Character(s):** Michael, Alto, Luca

**Pairing(s):** Slight Michael/Alto, if you squint

**Summary:** Michael likes Alto's pretty long hair. One shot.

**Disclaimer:** Macross Frontier, characters and settings are copyright to Satelight and Studio Nue.

**AN:** My first BL Frontier fic. Ha. Anyway, idea came from a discussion I had with a friend on Michel having hair fetish, mainly on Tsundere-Hime's hair.

The first time they met, punches had been thrown and insults had been hurled. Granted, it had probably been his own fault that time. Even at that age, he had let his mouth run and that had been enough to incite the attack. Alto had a fiery temper back then.

He still does but he had better reign of his temper now. No punches were thrown but Michael could bet Alto was more than tempted to give him the black eye more than once. Instead, Alto ground his teeth and growled at him whenever he deigned to call him by that insufferable nickname which he had christened to him.

Alto had been a rather pretty child, rosy-cheeked and doe-eyed. A pity he grew out of that. He was still rather pretty, though; almond-shaped amber eyes, sharp nose and high cheekbones. Michael remembered thinking how long and lovely Alto's hair was when he first laid eyes on the other boy. Alto's hair was still lovely and had grown longer over the years but it was now constantly tied up in a ponytail. It was annoying. The way it would swing from side to side whenever Alto walked, making Michael want to reach out and grab hold of it.

Like right now. Alto was walking next to Luca, hands tucked in his pants pockets as the younger boy chattered about a program he had been working on. The long hair was swaying from side to side with each step Alto took. Michael jammed his hands into his pants pockets so that he wouldn't find himself reaching out and touching that hair. He wondered vaguely if it felt like silk to touch. Alto certainly paid attention to his looks, not that he was vain. He was just quite particular. Probably had to do with being raised as a performer from such a young age.

Michael was so busy wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost missed what Alto said to Luca.

"-- to be cut, I think," Alto was saying. "It'll get in the way."

"Don't cut it!" Michael blurted out, before he could stop himself.

The two stopped, turned around and stared at him. Luca with bemusement, Alto with a funny expression.

Michael let out a forced chuckle. "I mean, it took you years to grow that out, right?" he said, resisting the urge to reach up and scratch the back of his neck. A habit he had yet to break.

Alto tilted his head to one side thoughtfully, looking at him contemplatively. The hair swayed gently. Michael wanted to touch it.

"You're right," said Alto, turning around again. Luca followed and they both continued their walk and their conversation.

Michael let out the breath he had been holding.

"Do you have something for long hair or just my hair?" Alto sat down beside him, not looking at him but at the setting sun.

It wasn't even the real sun, just an artificial simulation of the real thing. Michael had never even seen real sunlight or the real sky in his entire life. Still, for something that wasn't real, it was as beautiful as the real thing. He wondered who was it who did the programming. Probably someone who had sat on a park bench and watched a lifetime of sunsets back then.

"What makes you say that?" Michael leaned back on his hands, smiling cheerily.

"You said it was pretty," Alto said, dryly.

"Did I?"

"When we first met."

"It is still pretty."

Alto gave him a sideway look, one eyebrow raised then snorted, clearly amused but trying not to show it. "You don't tell a boy his hair is pretty. You tell that to a girl."

"Ah, but you can be a very pretty girl, too." Michael smirked, watching the myriad of expressions crossing the other boy's face. Outrage to disbelief to annoyance and finally, resignation.

Alto huffed, muttering something in his native language before tilting his face up to the sky, eyes closed. The ends of his hair brushed the ground.

It'll get dirty, thought Michael, absently. He reached over, grasping it in his hand. It was soft and felt almost like silk. He wondered how much care and maintenance had went into it to make it look so good and shiny.

"You have hair fetish." Alto's voice break into his thoughts.

"Only for yours," he answered, easily.

"That's creepy and perverted." Alto rolled his eyes, tugging his hair back and tightening the knot. He got up, brushing at his pants. "Come on. Luca was wondering where you went."

Michael mourned at the loss of contact but got up anyway. He followed Alto, watching the hair swing from side to side. Maybe next time he'd do more than just touch it.

Owari.


End file.
